The Sugarless Gum 100 Theme Challenge!
by GrimmUlquigrrrl
Summary: As the title suggests, this is the 100 Theme Challenge done in MLxPG style. The ratings vary from K to M by story. Please read the first chapter before asking me any questions! It's all explained there. Please enjoy! Most recently updated: 85. Cliques on 1/12/14.
1. Introduction

Hello all! For those of you who know my writing, the format here is the same as my 100 Theme Challenge GrimmUlqui style. For those of you who don't know, I'll explain it for you. There are blank chapters inputted here; this is not to annoy you, I promise, but so that I can more easily keep the stories in order. I'm OCD like that. You can tell which stories are finished because they will be named in the drop down list of chapters. The unfinished ones will simply be numbered. Also, I will update the summary to say which chapter has been most recently updated. Thank you very much for reading! I felt like there wasn't enough love for these two, so I added some. Those of you who are interested in this challenge can find the themes here: journal / TRY-ME-Kioshi-s-MLXPG-100-Theme-d-challenge-317540193 (without the spaces). Enjoy!


	2. 1: Bubbles

Bubba loved bubble baths. He would never admit it to anyone for various reasons, not the least of which was that it made him sound like a child, but it was still true. He loved sitting in the massive bathtub in the palace, the smell of lavender bath oil filling the steamy air, and the _bubbles._ He loved bubbles. He could never explain why, but he did. He always felt a little spoiled when he took a bubble bath, since so few people ever got to sit and enjoy such a luxury, but it was his guilty pleasure.

"It smells girly as shit in here," a deep voice said, and Bubba almost jumped out of his pink skin.

"Marshall Lee!" he yelped, whirling around to find the vampire floating boredly by the (still locked) door. Marshall didn't even have the decency to seem amused by his own antics, just picking at his fingernails like they were the most interesting things in the room. "How did you get in here?"

"Vampires can turn into mist," Marshall explained with a shrug. Of course, so he drifted in from under the door. Bubba realized his clothing situation and sunk into the bubbles up to his chin to hide his body. He glared, summoning his most authoritative princely stare.

"Well, I am kindly asking you to leave," he said rather unkindly.

"Why?" Marshall Lee asked, his trademark smirk finally reappearing. He made eye contact with Bubba for the first time that night, and Bubba almost withered at the deviousness he saw—both because he knew it spelled bad things for him and because he found it somehow _attractive._ "Afraid someone'll find out the vampire king was in your room?"

"Marshall, I'm _naked,_" Bubba hissed, sinking further into the froth. Marshall scoffed, amused.

"So?" he asked. "It's not like we have different parts. Even if you _are_ the most feminine thing since perfume." Bubba glared harder, ignoring the blush that came to his cheeks when he thought about Marshall's 'parts.'

"I do not appreciate your derisiveness, Marshall Lee," he said. "Now please get out before I call my guards." Marshall just smirked wider, showing his fangs, and was suddenly gone. Bubba jumped at the suddenness of it. He had never seen Marshall go invisible before, just go visible again (usually to scare the goodness out of him). He stiffened and waited, but nothing happened.

"I know you're still in here, Marshall Lee," he said, trying to sound confident. Really he was hunched into himself tensely, waiting for the scare he knew would come.

"Well, no shit," Marshall said, and Bubba whirled around again. Marshall Lee, king of the vampires, was sitting in his bathtub, supposedly naked (Bubba couldn't see under the bubbles, thank Glob), his gray chest bared unashamedly, holding the soap. Bubba floundered back.

Marshall had already made himself at home in Bubba's huge bathtub, leaning against the side with his arms propped up behind him. He seemed perfectly happy, which Bubba was not. "Seriously, I've been visible for, like, a whole minute. You can be really oblivious." Bubba glared.

"Marshall Lee, get out of my bathtub," Bubba spat. Marshall shrugged, putting the soap down.

"Alright, alright," he said, floating upward. Bubba's eyes went wide as he saw the bubbles stream down Marshall's toned chest, his bellybutton bared, then his hips, then the dark trail of hair leading down to his—Bubba lunged forward and grabbed Marshall's wrists, pulling him back down harshly. The pink man's cheeks were flaming. Marshall smirked. "What, don't want to see? Good plan. You'd probably get jealous." Bubba glared.

"Marshall Lee, you are a child," he said. Marshall just laughed.

"Well, now you've got a predicament," Marshall said, and for a second Bubba's heart stopped. Could Marshall see what he was hiding between his thighs? It wasn't his fault, it was stupid Marshall's for getting naked and in the bath and being so hot and— "I can't get out because you don't want to see me naked. You can't get out because you don't want me to see you naked. What are you gonna do now, gummy boy?" Bubba's heart started again.

"I...uh…" Bubba stuttered, realizing that Marshall was right. He couldn't let Marshall see his problem, so he couldn't get out, but if Marshall got out first Bubba's problem would only get worse. Besides, Marshall would only try to play some prank on him, if Bubba knew him at all. And as often as Marshall annoyed him, Bubba felt he had some idea.

"That's right, bubble boy," Marshall smirked, "you're stuck. And you know that if you call anyone to get me out of here I could kick their butts easily, not to mention the rumors that could start. The crown prince of the candy kingdom naked in the bath with the vampire king? That would get around fast. You wouldn't have a reputation to speak of." Bubba paled. Oh no. Marshall's smirk grew. "So, since we've got plenty of time, you feel like telling me why you're still holding my arms?"

Bubba jumped back, letting go of Marshall's (hot) skin. How had he not noticed that? But even as he moved back Marshall moved forward, keeping the distance between them equal. Bubba hadn't realized how very close he had been to the vampire, but he definitely felt the lack of space now. His back bumped against the other side of the tub and he squeaked. He'd never realized that his feet barely touched the bottom of the tub before.

The look on Marshall's face was too dangerous. He looked so devilish, and Bubba knew the other man had a plan. Bubba gulped. "Marshall Lee, could you please—" he started, but choked on his own breath when something hot and slick pressed up against his half-hard member. His eyes became big as saucers.

"What's the matter, Bubba?" Marshall asked, gyrating the soap against Bubba's most intimate parts. "I just want to help you get clean." Bubba gaped like a fish as Marshall pressed his chest against Bubba's own. Suddenly the water seemed scalding.

Bubba's brain had stopped working, and so had his body. There was no way this was happening, right? Marshall didn't like guys. Marshall liked girls. This was a joke. Any second now Marshall would start laughing at him and tell everyone that Bubba was gay. He kind of wished it would happen. That was normal Marshall, that was Marshall as Bubba knew him, and Bubba didn't know how to react to this new side of Marshall. Marshall leaned in and breathed into Bubba's ear, "Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

And then Bubba was caught up in a kiss.

It was hot and fast and for some reason it sent a wave of heat through Bubba's body. Is this what kissing was like? It was so good. Bubba could feel himself melting into it, and apparently so could Marshall. Bubba shuddered helplessly as Marshall played with Bubba's rapidly hardening member, rubbing the soap leisurely over every sensitive part. The kiss was only broken for Marshall to say:

"You know, Bubba, I think I like bubble baths."


	3. 2: Memory

Marshall Lee had loved Bubba Gumball. Everyone had. He was undoubtably the best king the Candy Kingdom had ever seen, bringing even deeper peace, prosperity, and further wealth to the already happy land. But only Marshall could say that Bubba loved him back.

They had laid under the stars and pointed out the constellations. They had gone to the caves and explored. They had danced in the spray of the pink waterfalls. They had climbed the jagged mountains. They had laughed as they rode through the clouds. They had jumped into purple lakes. They had ridden across marshmallow meadows. They had sat in the moonlight and held each other. No one knew, but no one needed to. They were happy.

All of that was a memory, now. It had been centuries. Centuries of black and gray, centuries where red didn't taste so good and the moon didn't look so bright. Nothing was the same. All Marshall had left was the old t-shirt he had given Bubba before they were even really friends, the one Bubba wore to bed almost every night. It was faded now, the design almost indistinguishable, but even though Bubba's smell had long gone from the clothing it brought Marshall comfort. Marshall had known Bubba wouldn't live forever.

They had been so good, the two of them. He had known they would be from the very moment he saw the other man. He hadn't wanted to get involved, had tried to stay away, had tried to disgust the candy prince, but in the end he couldn't stay away. Bubba was too magnetic, too electric, and nothing Marshall did could have saved him. But it had been worth it. He clutched the neck of his guitar a little harder, crooning for the waiting crowd a song they would never understand.

_Waiting in the wings, _

_Watching you perform, _

_That pretty little crown up on your head. _

_Hoping many things, _

_Hiding by the door, _

_I'll never ever forget the things you said. _

_Trust me and I will_

_Trust you._

_Love me and I will_

_Love you. _

_Forever is a long time, baby, _

_Longer for me than for you. _

_But I promise on my life_

_I'll never say goodbye, _

_Not even long after you're gone. _

_In heaven maybe you can hear my song. _

_Maybe if you want to, sing along. _

_I promise I'll pretend to be strong. _

He ended the song and the whole crowd cheered, but none of them saw the tears shimmering in his rusty eyes. He took a bow, noting how Bubba's shirt feathered against his chest where he wore it, and walked brusquely off stage. Even the applause of a happy audience couldn't bring him the rush it once had. His eternity was dark. He let his hand dust across the shirt and felt an aching warmth in his chest that he had always associated with Bubba.

It had been worth it.


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	11. 10: Teeth

Marshall Lee didn't like his teeth—or rather, his fangs. In fact, he was downright sensitive about them. Self-conscious, even. And that was very, very strange to Prince Bubba Gumball.

Not just because this was Marshall Lee the Vampire King they were talking about, the most cocky, stuck up and overly confident person the land of Aaa had ever seen. Not just because those teeth were scary as all goodness and Marshall loved scaring people. Because Bubba really, really liked those teeth.

They didn't look a thing like all the fake vampire movies led people to believe. They were real, and they were deadly. If one looked at them closely enough they looked just like a cat's, curving backward almost delicately, but it didn't take getting bitten to see that they were strong. They were made for hunting, and something about them thrilled the candy prince.

Bubba didn't just like to look at those teeth; he liked to feel them. Feel them against his bottom lip as Marshall kissed him for all he was worth, feel them skimming his throat dangerously as Marshall left dark hickies, feel them graze his abdomen as Marshall teased him with his lips. Bubba loved it. He loved knowing that Marshall could kill him, but never would. He loved knowing that out of everyone in the great big land of Aaa Marshall had chosen him. He loved knowing that Marshall would always stay, even though their relationship could never be public. He loved Marshall.

So Bubba never said anything when Marshall bit just a little too hard, or scraped a little too deep. He never said anything when Marshall tried to give him oral and accidentally poked his intimate places. He never said anything when Marshall kissed him so hard his bottom lip bled. He knew Marshall would want to know, that Marshall would want to stop hurting his younger lover, but he also knew that hearing those words from Bubba's mouth would wound the vampire. Marshall's teeth were all that the other man was embarrassed of, and he didn't need another reason to hate them. Instead Bubba embraced the pain.

He moaned when he needed to moan, gasped when he needed to gasp, and most of the time it was truly genuine. Even when it wasn't, it still was. He loved Marshall, and any attention he got was good attention. He even loved it when Marshall scared him because it meant he was on Marshall's mind. So it didn't matter that occasionally one thing or another thing hurt, because everything else was amazing.

Bubba smiled. Everything was amazing.


	12. 11: Nervous

Bubba had been so nervous when he had confronted Marshall about his feelings. He'd pushed it to the back of his mind, because he was a prince and it was unseemly for him to be nervous over something so seemingly trivial. He told himself that was what his confession was; trivial, unimportant.

He'd been nervous when Marshall first kissed him. It was right after his confession, after a rather long pause during which Bubba's stomach hurt. Marshall had seemed stunned, in disbelief, and Bubba had reasoned to himself that he had made a mistake. But his body wouldn't move, wouldn't walk away, and then suddenly Marshall's lips were on his and he was very, very glad he didn't try to leave.

He'd been nervous the first time they went on a date. He was afraid that he would somehow ruin this, that he would act like an idiot and run Marshall away. He had never been on a date before, and he wasn't sure what to do. When Marshall showed up at the door he looked like he felt the same way, and that helped.

He'd been nervous the first time Marshall had stayed the night. He had been so scared that someone would come in and catch them cuddling on the prince's bed and rush to conclusions. More importantly, he'd been afraid that Marshall would try something while Bubba slept. He didn't really believe the other man would, but Marshall had a reputation and that had been a little frightening. But when Bubba had inevitably slipped, unwillingly, into sleep, he had felt almost safe in Marshall's arms.

He'd been nervous the first time Marshall had flown with him. He'd clung to the other man like the last rock before a waterfall, trying hard not to look down and failing miserably. They were up so high, and if he fell there was no hope. But Marshall held him just as securely, and when they'd started to slowly spin in the moonlight Bubba couldn't help but smile.

He'd been nervous the first time Marshall had wanted a little taste of his color. They'd been dating for almost two months, and he trusted Marshall dearly. Still, the idea of those fangs in his skin sent shivers of disgust down his spine. But he had agreed, because Marshall looked so soft and kind and wanting, and because he trusted Marshall. It had hurt just a little at first, but after that he was surprised how...pleasant it was to be attached to Marshall like that. It wasn't a physical pleasantness, but one he felt anyway. It left a light bruise, surrounded by a small patch of white, but it really wasn't so bad.

He'd been nervous the first time he and Marshall fought. He couldn't even remember what it was about anymore, just that there had been screaming and Marshall had jumped out the window and flown away angrily. Bubba had been so mad. He'd been so mad he hadn't even realized at first what had just happened. He was pretty sure they'd broken up, and when he calmed down he was heartbroken. The months he'd spent with Marshall were the best of his life, and he didn't want to go to bed that night because Marshall wasn't there to hold him. He thought he would never see the other man again. But after only a few days Marshall came back, and they held each other and Bubba cried and they apologized with everything in them.

He'd been nervous when Peppermint Maid, his most trusted employee and one of his best friends, almost a mother to him, had gently inquired about his relationship with the vampire king. He had known he couldn't lie, not to Peppermint, and so he had reluctantly admitted his relationship with Marshall. He had expected a gasp, a disgusted look, and a lecture, but he got none of those. He got a pat on the shoulder and trusting eyes, and he had almost cried.

He'd been nervous when Marshall had wanted to move up to tier five. That meant touching placed they hadn't touched before, and Bubba was scared to be so open with his body. It wasn't princely to want such carnal things, but he couldn't deny that he wanted to try it. More importantly, he wanted to try it with Marshall. It had been almost a year now, and he trusted Marshall more than anyone. Despite his fluttering stomach and burning cheeks, he knew Marshall would take care of him. And oh, it had felt so good. It was impossible to describe how good it had felt, to touch and be touched, to give and to get, and to moan and hear moans in return. He didn't even know why he'd been so nervous.

So now, when he was more nervous than he had ever been in his life, he remembered every time he'd thought things would go wrong. He looked up at Marshall, who floated in an antsy manner, and got a small, strained smile. Everything was on the line tonight. Tonight they would finally come forward to the kingdom, the kingdom that hated and feared Marshall Lee the vampire king, and there was no guarantee that the candy people would approve of Bubba's choice. If they didn't, they could force Bubba out of office. Marshall squeezed Bubba's hand as if he knew what Bubba was thinking. Bubba smiled.

No matter what, he had Marshall Lee.


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	15. 14: Sunshine and Daisies

Marshall had always hated Gumball. The pink man was so happy all the time, so Marshall had assumed that everything in his life was perfect. If it was anything else, the prince never let on. He was always smiling, always so in love with everything, like he didn't know there was such a thing as darkness.

Marshall was wrong.

He could never say what made him float up to the prince's room instead of staying at the party (which he had, of course, crashed, just to annoy the other man). Maybe it was boredom, maybe it was because he had wanted to scare the candy man, or maybe some part of him had known he needed to. It didn't even matter why, because he did it any way the cards were played. And he had never expected what he found.

Bubba Gumball, the Crown Prince of the Candy Kingdom, one of the most powerful kingdoms in the land of Aaa, was crying.

Not just crying. He was sobbing. Clutching the pillow to his face, in the fetal position on his bed, body shaking, shoulders heaving sobbing, and Marshall couldn't explain the pang he felt watching it. He could smell the salt of the tears rolling down the other man's face, could feel the desolation rolling off of the prince from across the room, and for the first time Marshall realized that not everything was sunshine and daisies in the boy's life.

And that was what he was. To Marshall, who had lived a thousand years, Bubba was just a boy. No boy should feel such total hopelessness. So Marshall did what his instincts told him, moving forward in the room after quietly closing the door.

It was clear that Bubba was trying to be quiet. He was trying not to alert anyone, trying to make sure the party proceeded as planned, that people enjoyed it, and Marshall wondered how long Bubba had been doing this. He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling it dip under his weight, and Bubba stiffened.

"Peppermint Maid?" the boy sniffled, almost hopeful.

"Nope," Marshall said, but his normal teasing tone was gone. He was strangely somber, something he always felt but rarely showed. And here he was, showing the one person he thought he hated more than anyone else; but in that moment, he couldn't feel anything but empathy. Bubba stiffened more, his shoulders tensing up in a way Marshall knew was defensive.

"What do you want?" Bubba snapped, voice muffled by the pillow. He didn't bother trying to sound princely. Marshall placed a gentle hand on Bubba's back.

"I'm sorry," Marshall breathed. Bubba's breath hitched, and then he was sobbing again. Louder than before, harder than before, but somehow Marshall knew that was't a bad thing. Things may not have been sunshine and daisies, but at least now Bubba wasn't crying alone.


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	29. 28: Birthday

Bubba picked up his cell as it rang, not bothering to check the caller I.D. The ringtone was "We Didn't Start the Fire," which meant that it could only be Ayden, Bubba's boyfriend. Everyone at the university called him the flame prince because he was so bipolar—it was so bad he had to transfer schools last semester.

"Hey babe," Bubba said easily. So easily that even Ayden, who was always suspicious of things that didn't exist, would never be able to tell that he was getting fucked from behind. Marshall smirked just knowing that. He'd made such a bad boy out of the once pure Bubba. "I know! Happy birthday. How did it go?"

Marshall slowed his pace so the frantic slapping of skin-on-skin couldn't be heard through the phone, focusing instead on how very sexy Bubba looked right then. He'd managed to convince Bubba to dye his hair pink, and it looked so good against his creamy skin. Bubba was currently leaning on his elbows, one delicate (and skilled) hand holding the phone to his ear, his whole back splayed out for Marshall to see. "Oh, that's nice," Bubba said calmly. Marshall concentrated on the lithe bend of the other man's back, the smooth curves of his not-too-feminine body, his delicious ass. The ass that Marshall was currently pounding. Mm, that was just too good.

"I know, I wish I could have been there too," Bubba said. "It just didn't work out, with school and all. I'm sorry." They both knew Bubba definitely wasn't sorry. Marshall let his cock scrape torturously slowly over Bubba's prostate, making Bubba shudder. Marshall smirked. Oh, how he loved playing with Bubba's body. He did it as often as he could. A foot against Bubba's crotch under the table, a hand on Bubba's ass when no one could notice, a playful slap on the chest that just so happens to tweak a nipple when everyone was watching. He loved watching Bubba struggle with his arousal.

"So how was your mother?" Bubba asked. He nodded when he had to, hummed here and there, but Marshall knew he was only listening enough to carry a conversation. He was paying far too much attention to the feeling of Marshall's dick inside of him, Marshall's hands on his hips. Marshall wished he could see Bubba's pulsing arousal, but he'd seen it so many times it wasn't like he didn't know what it looked like.

Marshall decided to have a little fun with his sweet little boy toy. He knew how much Bubba loved these middle-of-sex phone calls, how dirty and hot they made him feel, so Marshall figured if he spiced things up a little Bubba would like it more, yeah? At the very least, it would be amusing.

"Oh, that's reaAAH!" Bubba shouted loudly, eyes going wide as Marshall really plowed in. Bubba tightened around Marshall's prick oh so nicely. Marshall smirked at Bubba when Bubba sent him a deathly glare over his shoulder. "What? Oh, no, babe, everything's fine," Bubba said smoothly, his sweet voice in complete disagreement with the downright evil look on his face. "I just stubbed my toe and it really startled me. Oh, I'm fine, don't worry about it. So how's your new roommate again?" Marshall smirked. No matter what Bubba's face said, Marshall knew he loved this. And Marshall could learn to handle this whole birthday sex thing—even if it wasn't his birthday they were celebrating. He thrust again, making Bubba bite his lip.

Oh yeah, he could definitely handle this.


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	82. 81: Spiders

Marshall was only afraid of one thing. Only one, on the whole planet. One thing that was the incarnation of pure evil, and if anyone knew evil it was the king of monsters. No one knew, because no one else could see the evil in those creatures' beady eyes. But Marshall saw. Oh yes, he saw.

So when one of Satan's minions showed up in Marshall's house, well, Marshall went to war. He had thought he had eradicated every crawling demon in the vicinity of his cave-house, but one had made it through his defenses. And that one would not survive to spawn.

Marshall donned his thick gloves, covered his mouth and nose with a surgical mask, tightened some swimming goggles over his head, and even did something he never did—put bobby pins in his luscious hair to keep it out of his face. He needed full visibility to fight this monster. He grabbed every caustic cleaning chemical he could find in his house and set to work.

He sprayed, he swamped, he misted, he tossed the liquid onto the evil creature, but it refused to die. He was just about to get out the flamethrower when his doorbell rang.

That was when Marshall remembered his date. And flipped out. Oh no oh no oh no oh no! Bubba was here, Bubba was here and Marshall wasn't ready, Bubba was here and Marshall wasn't ready and there was a devil on his wall, Bubba was here and Marshall wasn't ready and there was a devil on his wall and— "Marshall, are you in here?" Shit!

"N-no! Hold on!" Marshall called, but it was too late. Bubba was stepping in the door, Bubba was looking up, Bubba was staring. Oh Glob. Marshall realized what he must have looked like. He gaped back at his boyfriend.

"Uh…Marshall? Everything okay?" Bubba asked carefully.

"I, uh, there was...uh…" Oh Glob! Marshall couldn't just say there was a spider; no one but him was afraid of spiders, Bubba would laugh! But what other option was there? "This is just what I do in my free time. Yeah." Oh, good job, Marshall. That doesn't make you sound like a freak at all.

"...Uh-huh," Bubba nodded slowly. Oh, great, now he was going to leave and never come back! Marshall seized up. Bubba couldn't leave! Marshall was better with Bubba.

"W-wait, Bubba!" Marshall said. "It-it's not—there's a spider."

"A...spider?" Bubba asked. Marshall looked at the floor, floating awkwardly.

"Um, yeah," Marshall said, "I just wanted to kill it, so I...uh…" He looked back up sheepishly, expecting to see Bubba holding back derisive laughter. Instead Bubba looked pale and a little sick. Marshall panicked. "Bubba? Bubba, what's wrong?" he rushed, beside Bubba in an instant.

"I...I...spider?" Bubba said weakly.

"Yeah," Marshall said. "What—" and then he got it. Bubba was scared.

Marshall was shocked. He had never seen Bubba truly frightened before; startled, sure, freaked out, all the time, but scared? Never. And here he was, staring at a weak-kneed, glassy-eyed Bubba, and for some reason all he could be was giddy. Bubba knew. Bubba got it. Then Marshall realized that Bubba wasn't breathing, and he pulled the other man outside.

"It's okay Bubba," he said gently, pushing Bubba into the sunlight outside the cave. He wanted to follow, rub Bubba's back soothingly, but Bubba needed the sun more than he needed Marshall at the moment. "Hey, it's alright," Marshall murmured anyway, staying as close to Bubba as he could without leaving the shadows of the cave. "It's inside, you're outside, you've got me. You're safe. I promise." Bubba shuddered all over as he started breathing again. He wouldn't look at Marshall. "Hey, babe, what's wrong?" Marshall asked, really worried. Bubba seemed more upset than Marshall had ever seen him.

"...You're going to laugh at me," Bubba said quietly. Marshall breathed out heavily.

"Seriously?" he asked. "Bubba, I thought you were going to laugh at me." Bubba looked up at him, still shaking from fear and uncertain, but Marshall could see a sliver of hope in those pink eyes.

"Really?" Bubba asked.

"Yeah, babe," Marshall said, rubbing the back of his head shyly. Only Bubba could make him this way. "It's just—I—people always say 'it's just a spider.'"

"It is not just a spider," Bubba said, glaring at nothing. "It is a creature straight from the underworld!"

Marshall felt like he should laugh, that was just so un-Bubbalike, but really he just thought it was sweet. He smiled gently and held his arms open. Bubba came to him immediately, snuggling into his chest.

"I love you, Bubba, you know that?" Marshall murmured. Bubba nuzzled in.

"I love you too," he said shyly. Marshall smiled.

That didn't mean he was going back in that house anytime soon, though.


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	86. 85: Cliques

High school was full of cliques. There were the popular people, the quirky people, the artists, the nerds—and Bubba didn't fit in with any of them. Maybe it was because he had friends from each group. He was especially friends with Fionna, one of the quirkiest people Bubba had ever met, but he could say that people from every clique came to him for advice.

You see, Bubba was notorious for being a confidential source. He would never tell someone's secret, and his kindness and wisdom far surpassed his years. By the time he got to senior year, almost everyone in his small-town high school had asked him for help in something. Bubba should have felt appreciated, and he did, but he knew he didn't really fit in with any group. He had little hope his college would be different.

Fionna was a little like Bubba in that she had friends from almost every clique, one of whom was Marshall Lee. Marshall was the king of the school, the most popular guy, the cockiest and the most handsome, and one of the only people who never came to Bubba for help. Bubba didn't mind. Marshall Lee seemed entirely too self-absorbed, and Bubba was just happy that he didn't have to deal with the young man on a regular basis.

Still, Bubba could see that there was something under the surface. Marshall wore a mask, but Bubba could never tell what he was hiding. Until the last Monday of school.

Marshall cornered Bubba in the men's restroom, and Bubba was immediately nervous. There was no one else there, since it was the middle of class, and Marshall was known to poke fun at Bubba daily. Bubba really didn't need to deal with a practical joke right then. But Marshall seemed just as trepidatious, looking around carefully to make sure no one was listening, and Bubba could tell something was off. When Marshall looked down, refusing to speak, Bubba took control.

"Hello Marshall Lee," he said kindly. He may not have liked Marshall, but if Marshall needed help Bubba would give it. "Is there something you would like to talk about?"

"I, uh...yeah," Marshall said, and it was so out of character that he wouldn't make eye contact. He wasn't the confident person he portrayed, and Bubba knew this ran deeper than just a rumor or a crush. Bubba waited patiently for Marshall to speak again, but it took some time. Finally Marshall said, "Do you ever feel like…like you don't…" Marshall looked up self-consciously, looking for affirmation, and Bubba nodded gently at him, listening intently.

"Like you don't what, Marshall?" he asked when Marshall stopped talking again.

"Like you don't...you aren't what people think," Marshall said, looking back to the floor. "Like you have to hide yourself from everyone, 'cuz they think they like you, but they only like who you pretend to be."

"More importantly, do you feel that way?" Bubba asked. Marshall scoffed, but there was no attitude in it.

"This is so girly," he said, but it fell flat. "Talking about feelings and all that…"

"But do you?" Bubba asked again. Marshall rubbed the back of his head slowly.

"...Yeah," he admitted. Bubba nodded. "I don't—" Marshall started, "I don't need you to tell me a bunch of smart stuff, 'cuz I already know, but I just…"

"Needed to get it off your chest," Bubba said. Marshall peeked back up again.

"Yeah," he said. "How do you know so much about what goes on in people's heads?" Bubba smiled.

"I don't," he said. Marshall looked up fully, surprised. "I only know what goes on in mine, but it turns out that's good enough. You're human too, so we aren't that different." Marshall blushed just a little, looking back down.

"Okay, well, um, thanks," he said. There was a pause. "Do you, uh, wanna come sit with me at lunch? Fi will be there." Bubba smiled.

"I would love to," he said. Marshall smiled a little too, the first genuine smile Bubba had ever seen on his face. It was handsome.

Bubba may not have fit into any particular clique, but that didn't mean there weren't people for him.


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	99. 98: Masquerade

Marshall still remembers the first time he met Bubba. He'd heard about this killer masquerade that was supposed to be held, and while balls weren't really his thing he hadn't been invited, which meant he was definitely going to go. After all, he was a royal too, shouldn't he at least pretend to care about the other royalty? It was important to have good relations and blah blah blah.

He knew the candy queen had died just a few months before, leaving her son, the candy prince, to rule the kingdom in her stead. The kid was almost twenty, and this was his first ball. He heard about it through LSP, who was so "totes super psyched" to go. Marshall didn't actually give a damn, he just wanted to scare the shit out of people and ruin the party. Maybe make this sissy prince feel bad about himself or something. Who knew? There were so many possibilities.

Marshall floated up to the candy castle, watching the people far below trailing in through the door. It was dark, and the party was informally starting. The prince wasn't scheduled to make his appearance for another thirty minutes, though, and Marshall wanted to see if he could get some dirt on the kid before completely destroying the party.

He had never come to the candy castle before, although he did enjoy scaring the working people of the kingdom on occasion, but it wasn't hard to figure out which room was the prince's. Even from outside it was obvious. It was high up in the castle, with a large balcony, and it was the only room besides the ballroom that had light coming from the window. Marshall floated up to it, snickering.

There was humming coming from behind a screen where the prince was presumably getting dressed. Marshall didn't have to worry about footsteps making noise, so he came right on in through the window. He had always been bold that way. He started looking around, trying to find anything to blackmail this new idiot with—other than his horrible humming. He was so out of tune.

There wasn't anything immediately incriminating, besides the fact that the whole room was pink. So Marshall did what any overly bold snooper would do; he started looking through drawers. He was an expert at sliding them open just quietly enough that nobody could hear it, but that didn't mean he would find anything. He went through the whole dresser without a single lead (seriously, nothing in the underwear drawer? Everybody kept _something_ embarrassing in their underwear drawer), but before he could do any more sleuthing the prince started to step out from behind the screen. Marshall immediately went invisible.

The prince didn't look half bad, for a dude. His style was so uptight, with that perfectly pressed white military suit, but other than that he wasn't too bad. He was trying to make an impression, but little did he know the only impression anyone would remember would be Marshall making the kid pee his pants. Marshall resisted the urge to snicker, which would only get him caught. Royals were so uptight about 'security breaches.'

Marshall floated out of the way as the young royal passed close by him. Marshall had expected the boy to go straight for the door, since it was almost time for the party's official start, but instead the prince went for the other side of the room, where a work desk was sitting. He reached a pink hand into the drawer and his eyes dodged around, and Marshall perked up. So that was where he kept his most embarrassing thing.

But when that pink, dainty hand came out of the drawer it wasn't holding anything that looked even slightly embarrassing. In fact, it was only a picture. The prince's face looked different than it had just moments ago, his whole demeanor changing. He looked so tired, so sad and run down, and Marshall was surprised. In that moment he knew that this prince was different. He wasn't fake, he wasn't contrived. He wasn't like LSP, who only thought about himself, or the Flame Prince, who was emotionally immature. This candy prince may have smiled and waved, but he was so much stronger than he would ever show anyone.

The pink man pressed his lips to the faded photograph, then slowly put it away. It was like he didn't want to let it go. He reluctantly closed the drawer, then cleared his throat. He rolled his shoulders a few times before letting them settle into a more upright position, straightening his back and composing himself completely. Marshall watched in amazement as the burdened boy became a confident man capable of ruling a kingdom. There was a knock on the door and the prince turned, smiling kindly at the peppermint woman who peeked in.

"It is time for the masquerade to start, your highness," the maid said.

"Of course," the prince said. "Let the party begin!" He slipped on a simple but elegant mask as he followed the maid out of the room, and Marshall felt that it was almost a shame to cover that kindly expression. He would make a good king.

Marshall went visible again as the door closed, staring after the retreating young man for a moment before slowly floating over to the desk. He opened the drawer almost reluctantly, suddenly not sure he wanted to peer that deep into the other man's life, but he picked up the photo anyway.

Staring back at him was a beautiful woman, one who had clearly lived well and happily. Her smile was serene, her face in the same kind formation that the prince's had been just moments ago, and even though the colors were draining he could see that she was the same pink in color. He knew immediately that this was the prince's mother. The prince's recently deceased mother.

Marshall felt like he had looked into something horribly personal, and he gently put the photograph back where he found it. He heard the crowd downstairs roar as the prince came down the stairs, welcoming everyone to his party. Marshall closed the drawer and turned away. There would be other parties. These balls were held all the time, and Marshall would have plenty of opportunities to cause a scene. He figured he could let the prince have his first night free of terror.

Marshall turned and flew back out the window, letting the music fade behind him.


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